


Susurrar

by imorca



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Time, Romance, Sweet/Hot, rositara - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imorca/pseuds/imorca
Summary: Tara was left with the impression that her companion was on the edge of the veil between worlds – that Rosita was a living shadow that had detached herself to cross over, and becoming saturated with moonlight, slowly began to materialize.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _The Walking Dead_ is copyrighted to AMC television, et al. No infringement intended. Transformed for entertainment as cultural fair use.

It wasn’t exactly a decision. It was late, she couldn’t sleep, she left bed, she started to walk…

She’d wasn't sure when she noticed, but at some point Rosita was just… _there_ …walking beside her. Tara wondered for a moment if it was a trick of the moon, the near-full shine confounding her insomnia with some buried urge she wouldn’t indulge under the sun. But, no. The tread of those work boots on the asphalt beside her were steady, and sure, and real.

Although they had electricity, they weren’t foolish enough to run streetlights, and most people turned in soon after dark in a world without television. So, even though they walked the streets within mere feet from living, breathing people, Alexandria had an air of surreality – the same eerie silence shared by the long uninhabited haunts that were being reclaimed by the animals, the kudzu, and the dead. Had they ever imagined the isolation such a short distance could create when the world was still crowded?

It was cool, and the high humidity dampened the night. The light breeze picked it up and soon it permeated even the blue flannel Tara was using as a jacket. She had subconsciously gravitated closer to Rosita, feeling out the warmth of shared space. The sleeves of the flannel were a bit too long, and hung past her thumbs, leaving only her fingertips extending past the hem. They were also a bit wide, and they brushed against Rosita, transferring the slight shift up Tara’s wrists, through her forearms, even up to her earlobes where they caused her shirt collar to tickle gently. She felt like she smiled, but was sure it would not have shown on her face.

Rosita was breathing quietly, but the stillness of the night was such a contrast that Tara’s breathing soon adjusted to be in sync. If she listened harder, would she be able to hear Rosita’s heartbeat? Would they sync in that way, too?

Stealing a side glance, it seemed like Rosita's dark hair dispersed into the night. Tara was left with the impression that her companion was on the edge of the veil between worlds – that Rosita was a living shadow that had detached herself to cross over, and becoming saturated with starlight, slowly began to materialize.

It wasn’t so far-fetched to wonder at on a night like this. Rosita’s dark eyes reflected the moon as she turned to meet Tara’s gaze, and the planes of Rosita’s face were flawless and…pure.

It was so low that Tara couldn’t be sure if she had heard or merely imagined it.

“¿Bésame?”


End file.
